A Million
by Queen of Cliffies
Summary: What's the worst that can happen? Don doesn't like this case from the start. Now he and his father have 1 million seconds to come up with 1 million dollars or his little brother will be returned, but in 1 million pieces. chap 8 is up! FINIS
1. The Need To Protect

Author: Nicole101

Summary: "What's the worst that can happen?" Don doesn't like this case from the start, now he and his father have one million seconds to get one million dollars or his one and only little brother will be returned in a million pieces.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and Santa was mean and didn't get me Numb3rs for christmas. I was such a good girl too!

A/N: Hey! I got a new computer for Christmas! New story for y'all! I'm in need of a beta. If anyone would like to acquire that position, just let me know. I'm really not to sure if this story is good so any reviews would be helpful. Also I can't promise regular updates or fast ones, but I can guarantee that I will finish this story. Hope you like it!

R&R, but please don't be cruel.

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**Prologue**

"C'mon Charlie it'll be fun," Amita smiled at him, trying to coax him out of his office, he'd been working too hard the last couple of days.

"I have to grade these papers on the Bessel Function (1)," he argued, finales weren't long off and he needed to finish.

"Just for an hour or two, I'm sure there's something mathematical about comedians(2)," she negotiated, knowing she'd eventually get him to come.

"Fine, I'll go. I don't know why I let you talk me into these things," Charlie shook his head, amused.

Amita just smiled and Larry came up beside them, "Charles, was Amita able to persuade you to accompany us?"

"Yes she was, but I can't go for long, agreed?" Charlie responded, "What exactly made you want to go?"

"Well Charles..." Larry began as the three of them left for Comic's Corner.

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**Chapter 1: The Need To Protect**

**A week later**

"Not on this case Charlie, I have a bad feeling about it," Don tried to explain the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him not to allow Charlie to work on the particular case.

"Don..." Charlie trailed off, "It would take so much longer without my help. What's the worst that could happen."

"Do you really want to know?" Don challenged, there were a lot of things that could go wrong on any case and his gut told him something would on this one. A series of kidnapings had occurred and the victims came back in a progressingly worse state. The first came back, after the ransom had been paid, relatively unharmed. The second was covered in bruises and the third had several broken bones. The fear instilled in everyone was that the next victim wouldn't be returned at all, at least not alive.

"Don, really what's the big deal about this case? Why is it so different from the rest?" Charlie asked, focused on getting his brother to change his mind.

"It just doesn't feel right," Don told him in a low voice.

"Don..." Charlie trailed off again and finally the agent let up.

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this but...okay," Don sighed, slightly angry that he couldn't hold out on his little brother. Charlie was supposed to be the one who couldn't say no.

"Alright, I'll get to work on an algorithm to find similarities between the victims and the kidnappers time line. Itmay show us who's next and when," Charlie started to ramble a little.

"There _is_ a condition Charlie," his elder brother stopped him.

Charlie let out a soft sigh, "What is it?" He asked suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at Don's unnecessary concern.

"Your not allowed at the crime scene. We'll get you pictures and that'll have to do," he set down the ground rules for Charlie's involvement.

"Okay, I'll guess that will have to suffice, but I could get better informa-" Charlie began.

"No!" Don answered forcefully, "You're lucky I'm even letting you work on this."

Charlie didn't reply to this.

"Your not going to any of the scenes. Come on Charlie, you're a genius, I'm sure you can follow these simple instructions."

"Yes, you don't have to repeat yourself. I heard you the first time,"

Don had to smile at this, "Really, because I'm never really sure with you."

Charlie smiled and knew that everything was alright between them once again, "Well... can I get the information?"

"Ask Megan, she'll make you some copies," Don answered him and watched silently as he walked away. He pondered why he was so against Charlie working on this case. Maybe it was just the state of the victims or that it seemed so random. As random as the sniper had seemed to be and he didn't even want to remember what might've happened of David hadn't pushed Charlie down.(3)

He continued to watch his younger brother collect the files from Megan and leave the FBI building with her, probably for a ride home. _Everything will be fine, _he told himself silently, but there was still the nagging feeling in the back of his mind and the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise.

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Charlie sat in the passenger's seat of Megan's van, contemplating ways to accurately predict the next strike as Megan drive him home.

"He's just looking out for you, you know," she told him, her eyes still focused on the road.

"I'm a grown man, I can look out for myself," Charlie rose his eyes from his work for a moment.

"I know, Charlie, but that doesn't change the fact that to Don you're his kid brother and he feels the need to protect you,"

"Mmmmhmmm," Charlie had barely heard her, he was again engrossed in his work.

Megan just shook her head. She dropped him off and on Don's earlier instruction, waited for him to be inside before driving away

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"Alright," a cold voice told his followers, "We'll surprise him."

The other five men nodded silently and got into position, skillfully hiding their large forms behind inconspicious objects.

"Not a word is to be said or a muscle to be moved until I give the okay, got it?" the cold voice asked.

"Yes," the five voices whispered their answer in unison.

"Good, because if you do, we'll be less a man, a bullet and plus a body"

"That's some good math," one of them chuckled in an ironic tone.

"Shut up," the first voice hissed dangerously.

"How are you going to turn off the lights?" Another questioned curiously.

"Well you can't see him, but Dark Shadow is right near one of the light switches."

"Oh, right. Sorry," the curious man replied almost meekly.

"Our victim should be here soon," the voice informed them, peeking at his watch momentarily.

"Will we get good money off this one?" Dark Shadow asked greedily.

"For his sake, I hope we do," the man who had chuckled earlier mentioned cruelly.

"We strike these people for good reason, they'll pay the ransom anyway they can," another with orange hair spoke up.

"Blaze, shut up!" the voice was exasperated at his men's need to talk during a strike. If this kept up, he'd need to find some new men, but that would be difficult, since his men had exactly the expertises he needed.

Everyone was silent, they could hear foot steps in the adjoining rooms and heard the door open and close quietly. Their victim seemed to be working on a laptop computer. They waited for their signal, knowing it could very possibly be a long night.

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Charlie waited patiently in the garage of his home for the algorithm to give him something probative. He was using the data mining technique he had used for a previous case that included numerous robberies and cell phones. He winced remembering that it was then Marshall Penfield had attacked his theory. Pushing away the memory he continued his waiting for the information. A moment later it was laid out in front him. Charlie's eyes widened in shock at the information his algorithm had given out. Quickly his eyes darted from side to side and he reached for his cell phone.

"Eppes," his brother answered.

"Don?" Charlie asked in a slightly frightened voice. Only a trained agent would have been able to detect it and Don _was_ a trained agent.

"Charlie? What's wrong?" Don asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

"The algorithm told me who and when the next kidnapings would happen," Charlie told him breathlessly.

"When? Maybe we could catch him in the act?" Don pressed his younger brother for the information.

"It'll happen tonight, possibly any minute," he told Don.

"Damn it! Who?" Don questioned.

Charlie remained silent for a moment and Don continued.

"Charlie...something tells me I don't want you to answer this, but who?"

In a scared whisper Charlie gave him his answer and his worst nightmare, "Me."

"I'm on my way-" but all Don heard was the dial tone._ That's the worst that can happen, Charlie, _Don told his brother mentally as he ran towards the door, signaling Colby and David to follow.

On Charlie's end, the lights had been shut off and a man that looked like nothing more that a shadow, clothed all in black, snapped the phone shut.

"Well hello Professor, it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. We've been watching you for quite some time now," the shadowy man said in a voice that gave Charlie a horrible feeling of apprehension in his stomach.

"We?" Charlie asked in a frightened voice.

The man nodded and four new shadows, one of them from right nearby the light switch (Dark Shadow), emerged from within the darkness.

"Too bad your math didn't tell you that information earlier," one of them chuckled coldly and he looked familiar, like one of the comedians from the club he went to last week.

Charlie swallowed thickly in his nervousness of what was to come. He too, had heard of the increasing amount of violence these men were using. Shuddering slightly he backed up towards the wall, only to bump into a sixth man with flaming orange hair. He too looked familiar; but Charlie couldn't quite place him. This man grabbed his arms firmly, pinning them there. The first man approached, pushing his face into Charlie's personal space. The young man could smell the vile texture of garlic and onions of the man's breath. The man (who was obviously in charge) whispered menacingly into his ear, "I hear you like numbers Professor. Guess what? So do I."

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(1) Bessel was a mathematician who worked in mathematics (duh), astronomy, and celestial mechanics. He developed a way of mathematical analysis called the Bessel function. Born: 22 July 1784, Died: 17 March 1846 from cancer.

(2) There are some mathematics involved, for example. Say a comedian comes in one day. The next day you could predict the amount of patrons the next by the level of amusement the day before. Also the number of good comedians will affect the number of patrons. So you see, Amita was right, even though this math is simpler than Charlie would be use to.

(3) If you do want to know what might've happened, check out Mea Culpa by Whyte Star.

A/N#2: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my second Numb3rs story. For people who are reading "Going Once, Going Twice, SOLD!" You can expect chapter 13 up around January 13th, I have it saved at school and won't be able to post it until I have access to the school computers again. I live for my reviews so please review. PLEASE! Again if anyone wants to beta for me, tell me!


	2. No Room For Mistakes

Disclaimer: SEE CHAP ONE!

A/N: Hey hey everyone! Here is the second chapter on A Million! Happy New Years to everyone! My New Years Resolution is to update as often as I can. Though I have like four or five stories on the go. I'll do my best! A shout out to my new beta enigste1, THANKS! Well I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Although the writer's block part was soooooooooo not fun. Hehe. I had to wrack my brain to find out what to do with this and I hope it goes in a direction that you can like.

Well here goes nothing!

**Chapter 2: No Room for Mistakes**

Don sped in the direction of the house his brother and father shared. His mind raced and he hoped that this was one of the rare occasions Charlie was wrong. Of course he already knew by the abrupt hanging up of the phone and the fact no one was answering that Charlie was probably right. The feeling he had in his gut earlier deepened considerably. It turned from the irrational worry he'd had in the beginning into torturous fear.

Usually he felt Charlie's house was quite close to FBI headquarters, but today it was too far away.

David sat in the passenger's seat, acutely aware that this wasn't just an average case. Don had explained about the phone call and Charlie's haunting findings as they ran towards the car. Colby was in the back seat. No one spoke. The situation was too intense for words. Their friend - Don's brother - was in serious trouble.

Don pulled into the driveway and they jumped out, guns ready. "On my signal."

Colby and David nodded. Don walked in the front door, calling as casually as he could. "Dad? Charlie?" There was no response. All the lights were off. He gave the signal and they rushed into the garage but they could see nothing in the darkness. Don reached for the light switch.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - except for the tiny puddle of blood on the floor. A closer look revealed words written on the wall in crimson. Colby and David's eyes locked, knowing instinctively what they would say.

_"Wait for the tape, it'll tell you what he needs to survive."_

"The same as all the others," Don whispered, staring at the bloody message.

"Hey Don." David tried to get his attention. He had found the results of Charlie's algorithm. "They didn't take Charlie's information. This might help us find him."

Don turned and silently took the printout.

_-all are the youngest of the families_

_-all had a family member die from cancer_

_-all from relatively small families (two or three immediate members)_

_-all own a house protected by the historical society_

_-all went to "Comic's Corner" a week or two before the kidnappings_

"Why didn't they take this information?" Colby wondered aloud.

"They probably didn't know he was working on it," David told him.

"Charlie fits the profile, but how was he so sure?" Don tried to sound in control, but the other agents could detect the strain in his voice.

"Maybe they did take the information, but missed this bit. There's nothing here about a time pattern. It looks like the last page of the information," Colby replied.

"Do you think Amita and Larry could run it again and get the missing data?" David asked.

"I hope so," Don answered and then realized something. "Where's my dad? He should've been here, too."

"Charlie? Are you home?" Don was relieved to hear his father's familiar voice, but he also knew that he couldn't allow his father in the garage.

"Dad! Wait there!" Don called as David phoned for back up. Don went into the house to see his father holding a small, wrapped parcel that looked suspiciously like it might contain a video tape.

"Don, do you know who this is from? It's addressed to me, but I'm not expecting a package," Alan asked his elder son.

Don swallowed, "I think I know where it came from." He met his father's eyes. "Dad..." Gesturing to a nearby chair, he added, "Sit down, please."

Alan slowly lowered himself into the seat. "Who is it from... where's Charlie?"

"Dad, Charlie's been... taken," Don explained as gently as he could. He braced himself for his father's reaction. "The package is from 'them',"

The other two agents chose this time to re-enter the house, "How did they take him with three agents in the house, Donnie! How!" Alan found himself raising his voice, even though he tried desperately not to.

"He found out he'd be next and called me, but they got to him before I even hung up. I tried Dad. I tried to save him." The words spilled out of Don as he tried to make his father understand. He didn't get it himself, really. How could he let his little brother be kidnapped?

"Its okay, Donnie." Alan opened the package and, just as Don thought, a video tape fell out onto the table.

"No, it's not," he whispered in response, he picked up the tape, put it into the VCR and watched with bated breath.

Charlie appeared on the screen, his hands in the process of being tied and looking as though he was in some kind of vehicle. The screen was shaking slightly, but not enough to suggest the vehicle was moving. Blood seeped from a gash in Charlie's left shoulder. Once the masked kidnappers finished binding his hands and feet, the camera swung around and they were suddenly looking into cold, green eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Eppes. As you can see, we have your youngest son here. He's a little the worse for wear, but otherwise perfectly healthy. That will change if my demands aren't met." The camera moved to Charlie again and a man gently ran his knife up and down Charlie's right shoulder. His mask slipped. As he pushed it back up, Charlie flinched involuntarily when the knife nicked his flesh. Fear was clearly reflected in the young professor's eyes.

"Damn it, Joker!" Someone yelled at the man holding the knife.

The camera resumed its focus on the man who'd been talking. "It's as simple as this. You need a million dollars so one of my friends doesn't cut Professor Eppes into a million pieces. Starting with the toes, moving on to the fingers and so on. You get the picture? Or do we need to show you?"

The four men watching each took a deep breath, but the camera never swung to Charlie. The speaker paused. "Didn't think so. Oh, and you have a million seconds to get me what I want. Professor... how long is that?"

The camera focused closely on Charlie as he began to speak, "Eleven days, thirteen hours, forty-six minutes and forty seconds," Charlie paused and when no one spoke, he quickly continued. "Dad... I'm sorry. Please... just get me out of here. Don, if you're there, I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you. I just want you guys to know... I love you. Please Don - find me." Tears spilled from his usually sparkling brown eyes. Now they just looked terrified, pleading for them to save him.

"How sweet. Don't worry, Agent Eppes. You know how this works. You and your father pay up and the professor goes free." The man with cold eyes smiled through his mask as the tape cut out.

"Don..." Alan trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"I'll get him back, Dad," Don reassured his father, not knowing if he'd be able to keep his word. "I'll get him back."

Alan nodded solemnly. "I'll see if I can get the money together."

Don pressed his hands into his face for a moment, took a deep breath and nodded slowly. It wasn't supposed to happen to his family. Not to him, not to his father and certainly not to Charlie.

The four men heard a car approach the house and then a tentative knock. Don opened the door and Megan stood on Charlie's stoop. "What happened?" she asked immediately, concern written on her face. It only took one word for her to realize what had happened.

"Charlie..." Don began, his voice breaking. She could easily see the emotion that was threatening to tear him apart.

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Angry shouts reached Amita's ears and she ducked behind the wall of a building just as a gunshot shattered the air. "There's no room for mistakes, Joker." A cold voice could be heard talking to whoever had just been shot. She waited and was shocked when she thought she heard Charlie's pleading voice. Amita pressed herself flat against the wall and prayed that she was mistaken.

The sound of a second gunshot never came, only that of a car burning rubber as it drove away. Amita ran to the unmoving man and saw blood pooling around him. Her eyes widened when she recognized him as the comedian from the week before. Yanking off her sweater, she pressed it over the wound and dug into her purse with her other hand for her cell phone.

"911-" the operator began, but Amita immediately cut him off.

"He's got a bullet wound, he's bleeding badly. We're at 53 Gorgan Avenue," Amita told the operator urgently.

"Okay, the ambulance and police are on their way. What's your name, miss?"

"Amita Ramanujan," she answered quickly.

"Alright Amita, they're coming. You -" but Amita had already hung up and dialed Don's cell phone number.

"Eppes," she heard his tired voice answer.

"Don? It's Amita. I'm here with a man who's been shot. I heard the whole thing. I think I heard Charlie. Please tell me he's there with you." Amita's voice was shaking with emotion.

"He's been kidna-" Don stopped. "Wait - you _heard_ him? Where are you?"

"53 Gorgan Avenue... He's been what? No… Don… please tell me you're kidding." Amita heard the man beside her groan and she pressed her sweater harder against his chest to slow the bleeding.

"I wish I was," Don's voice crackled over the phone. "Listen, I'm going to head over there right away, okay?"

"I'll wait here then. I hope this guy doesn't die." Amita looked down at the man again.

"I hope so too. He may be our only lead to find Charlie," Don hung up the phone, not taking the time to say goodbye.

The man groaned again, "Hey...You're that girl..."

"Yes... Good. You remember me. You remember who was with me that day?" Amita asked him, trying to make her voice sound calm but unable keep out an angry undertone. He'd helped kidnap Charlie and she didn't want to be kind to him.

"The older professor...Fleinhardt and Charles Eppes..." He groaned in pain. Amita just pressed harder. "Please... that hurts."

"No pain, no gain," Amita replied with a grim smile.

"I'm sorry... 'bout your friend..." He was unable to continue as bloody coughing erupted from deep within his throat and in an attempt to save him, Amita tried to prop him up.

"NO! You can't die! You have to help us find him!" Tears slid down her cheeks as she struggled to keep their best chance at finding Charlie alive.

Slowly the coughing subsided as sirens approached, interrupting the silence of the night. The ambulance had finally arrived. "Please, you can't die," she begged the injured man. In her heart she knew it was really Charlie she was pleading with. She couldn't imagine life without him. "Please… just don't die."

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Well it took me long enough, but I got it done didn't I? I really hope you enjoyed chapter two of my second Numb3rs story. I hope to have chapter three up by February, but don't hurt me if I don't. I can only do what I can. Exams are coming up and I need to cram and cram and cram for the next couple of weeks. I hope I do good! If there is any suggestions you want to give me, don't be afraid. All I want to do is improve my writing. Maybe someday I'll get a book published. If I do, I'll be sure to mention all the people who helped me in learning to write better. Because p.s. writing is my life! I'd also like to add, my beta rocks! THANK YOU!

Please review!


	3. Long Hidden Guilt

A/N: I know this is a little late, but I'm having the most terrible writer's block on this story. The plot bunny for this story just visits every month or two. I'm really sorry about the long waits I've been forcing upon you guys. I think once I finish up this and my other stories (on another fandom) I will stick to posting one story at a time. Less stress on my part and most likely less waiting on yours. Another reason for this particular long wait is there was a death in my family recently. I had to go to NFLD for the funeral and such. I wasn't going to post this for awhile, but I will now. Don't expect a quick update, I've been having trouble writing lately and that's not like me. There isn't the same flow, like before it was like some other force gave me the story, but thats gone for the moment and I don't want to torture you with bad chapters. I think you'd rather wait then see his story go down the drain. Sorry that I'm making you guys wait.

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**Chapter Three: Long Hidden Guilt**

Silence and darkness surrounded Charlie's world. He couldn't see a thing due to the blindfold now over his eyes. He was utterly alone with his thoughts – thoughts that mercilessly reminded him of the condition each of the victims had been in when they were returned. It was an easily predictable pattern: each kidnapping was more brutal than the last. Would this be the one with a fatality?

He knew his abductors were ruthless. They had already killed one of their own. Charlie shivered from where he was lying on the cold floor.

A small creak caught his attention, "Professor Charles Eppes, how are you liking your accommodations?" The man he now knew as Dry Ice asked him mockingly. "Are they comfortable enough?"

"No, but I don't have much of a choice do I?" Charlie replied in a resigned voice. He twisted his wrists in the ropes slightly to emphasize his point.

He sensed a presence right beside him. Close – as if the person was kneeling down – and then felt tugging at the ropes binding his hands. Once freed, he reached for the blindfold, but a sharp smack to the face deterred him. He let his head sink back down to the floor. His feet were still tied and would be until he had the use of his sight.

"That stays on until I leave, understand?" Dry Ice's voice was commanding.

"Yeah..." Charlie's voice trailed off. He had not expected to be untied. However the reason was quickly revealed to him as he felt another, heavier binding encircle his ankle. He reached to stop Dry Ice but only received another blow to the face. Whatever it was clinked and he deduced it was probably some sort of chain. The same material went around his thighs, just above his knees, further hampering his ability to move.

"Now, someone will be in here shortly with some food for you. Don't misbehave or we'll have to punish you," the threat was obvious, but the way he said it was even more chilling.

Charlie nodded slightly and heard Dry Ice's footsteps as he left the room. As soon as he was gone, his hands ripped off the blindfold. The bindings on his legs _were_ chains and he tried to get them off but they had been secured tightly.

His mind went into action as he tried to calculate breaking the chain by bending it at a certain angle, but the tightness of it didn't give him any room to move the chain to the necessary degree. Struggling to get himself into a comfortable position, he put his back against the wall and his legs out in front of him. It was the most comfortable arrangement he was able to get his body into, considering the restraints and the gash on his shoulder which still throbbed occasionally.

Closing his eyes, he sighed loudly. This was not how he had planned to spend his night. He had not planned on being kidnapped, being held in a small room with an uncomfortable concrete floor, or being at the mercy of five ruthless men. Charlie looked at his watch, _Only 11 days 12 hours 56 minutes and twelve seconds left until..._ He shook his head rapidly, _No! Dad will pay the ransom or Don will find me._ He forced himself to think positively, his brother would save him. He knew, no matter how bad the situation seemed, Don would come through for him. Charlie trusted his brother on that.

The door creaked open again and Charlie's head whipped over to face whoever had entered the room. Although Dry Ice had told him someone was coming in and that it was too soon for anyone to even have an idea where he was, he still held out hope that it might be Don.

His hopes were crushed. It was the orange-haired man with a sandwich and a bottle of water in his hands – Charlie's supper. The man knelt in front of him with a mean smile showing through his mask. "Hungry Charlie?"

Charlie nodded as his stomach grumbled slightly, causing the man to laugh.

"I don't think you deserve it. Where were you when dear old mum was in the hospital?" He asked nastily.

Tear automatically sprung into Charlie's eyes, but they didn't fall. "How – how did you…?" he stuttered for a moment. Suddenly it all made sense. That was why this man seemed so familiar. He had been the doctor who'd treated his mother when she was ill. Charlie had only seen him a couple of times, but he knew now that they were one and the same. That also explained why all of the victims had a family member die in the not-so-distant past.

"I'm not going to tell you that." He either didn't see the look of realization in the younger man's eyes or he was just too dumb to notice it. "And you can call me Blaze. You won't see me for awhile – I have some unfinished business to attend to," he commented as he dropped the water bottle on the floor along with the sandwich before leaving. He flashed Charlie one last insolent smirk before slamming the door.

The professor picked up the sandwich, carefully peeled off the plastic wrap and took a small bite. He chewed for a moment and swallowed thickly. Blaze's words hung in the air like thick smog. Charlie rewrapped the remainder of the sandwich clumsily and threw it down. Lying down on the floor, he pressed his face into his arms, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as sobs racked his body. Where had he been? In his own little world, his precious bubble, because he was too selfish to face the truth and help his mother deal with the disease that had ultimately taken her life. The guilt he had harbored for so long finally overcame him in his dire situation and Charlie let himself cry.

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Don's arrival gave Amita substantial relief, maybe now they could save this man's life – and Charlie's. The fact the paramedics had come didn't hurt the situation either.

Silently Don led her away from the bloody scene and told her to stay in his vehicle. Amita stared at him through the window and watched forlornly as he spoke to the EMT's.

"Sir, we have to get this man to the hospital immediately," one of the paramedics tried to explain, but Don cut her off. "An innocent man is missing and he is partly responsible!" His anger was barely controllable.

"Listen, you can question him at the hospital after he's stable. He's no use to you dead," The woman explained soothingly and offered, "Why don't you follow in your car?"

"Fine," Don seethed inwardly as he stalked back to his car where Amita waited. He noticed the tears that had escaped her eyes and he tried to reassure her as well as himself. "Don't worry, we'll get him back," he told her softly.

She looked at him with an insurmountable amount of grief in her eyes and he knew exactly how she felt. They were both in the same boat. Both were only days away from losing someone they loved in a brutal and painful fashion.

"I can't help but worry. I can't help but run every possible situation through my mind and it's always the worst-case scenario. I don't know if I can take this," she confessed as she swiped at her tears with her sleeve.

"You have to, for Charlie. How can we expect him to be strong if we can't do the same?" Don asked her seriously. Amita nodded and stared out the window aimlessly as the streets of L.A. flashed by.

Minutes passed like hours before the hospital came into view and they made their way into the waiting room. Amita sat silently in an uncomfortable chair while Don used his badge to get into the room where the man was being prepped for surgery.

"Sir, can you tell me your name?" He asked, pushing the urge to demand his brother's whereabouts away.

"Drake Meggers. You're the brother...right?" The man asked with difficulty.

"Yes, do you know where he is?" Don pressed with a hint of anger in his voice. Before Drake had a chance to answer an orange haired doctor came in and injected something into his IV quickly before rushing out.

"Blaze! That was Blaze, he has..." but the words were cut off as his body started to convulse violently and his breathing became frenetic.

Don stabbed at the call button and screamed for a nurse as the man died in front of him, "Charlie! He has Charlie?"

"Sorry..." Drake hissed as his teeth clenched together and his breathing stopped, the eerie whine of the heart monitor lingering in Don's ears. He offered no resistance as he was directed out of the room.

"Don?" Amita stood.

"He's dead," he replied in a monotone.

"No!" She slumped back into the chair as Don realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Not Charlie… the comedian," he clarified. "And we have another suspect. I just have to ask around to get his name."

She nodded quietly and Don put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light comforting squeeze. "I'll only be a minute," he said as he walked back over to the receptionist.

Picking up a phone left out for family members of patients, Amita called Larry.

"Hello?"

"It's Amita, Larry. I have… Charlie's been kidnapped," she blurted out.

"What? Are you okay?" He questioned immediately.

"I'm fine – I'm with Don. I witnessed a shooting directly linked to the kidnapping," she replied quietly.

"What about Charles? Do they know if he's alright?" Larry asked, concerned for his friend.

"I don't know. I only found out about the kidnapping after I witnessed the shooting," Amita explained as Don came back. Holding the phone away for a moment she whispered, "It's Larry. Do you know if Charlie's alright?"

"He's fine for the moment," Don told her in a voice that clearly expressed there had been a threat made.

She grimaced and turned back to the phone, "I just asked Don. He's fine. Well… as fine as can be expected."

"Will you call me if they find anything?" Larry asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course. Bye, Larry." She terminated the call and looked up at her missing friend's brother. "Get a name?"

"Dr. François LeBlanc," Don nodded. "He treated my mother. Maybe that's part of how they pick their victims," the FBI agent pondered aloud. "I should get home – see how my dad's doing with the money."

"Stop at the bank, " Amita told him, rising to her feet. "I'll help." She trailed him out of the hospital.

"You have to be careful, you're a witness," he told her seriously. "They could come after you."

"That's the last thing on my mind right now and you're stopping at the bank," she answered him in a tone equal to his own.

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Yeah yeah yeah, this chap was shorter than the last, but I did finally update, didn't I? Please review! Won't be a new chapter for awhile, I have no idea how I was able to rack this one out of my brain. I don't much like this chapter either, but it's better than it was, thanks again to my awesome beta Enigste1! The hearing in my right ear if muffled and weird, ahhh it's bugging the crap out of me, so is the virus on my computer. Just another day in the life of the authoress Nicole also known as Queen of Cliffies.

With love to all my loyal readers

BYES!

Hehe, well PRESS THE PURPLE BUTTON OR PAY THE CONCEQUENCES! (gee did I spell that right? Don't matter, you get the picture.)


	4. Father and Son

A/N: Sorry for the amazingly long wait, but my plot bunny just came back and luckily for you I even have a bit on chapter five typed up, so it probably won't take as long. I just watched the Numb3rs season finale and omg it was great. Well here goes and I hope you like it.

Also thanks to my beta Enigste1, that beta job was awesome, THANKS!

Chapter Four: Father and Son

Charlie opened his eyes tiredly. He'd cried himself to sleep, something he hadn't done in a long time. His stomach growled and he picked up the leftover sandwich, finishing it off quickly. He washed it down with a large gulp of water and recapped the bottle for later.

Carefully he pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing as he put pressure of his shoulder. The gash on his shoulder had scabbed over, but it had cracked and was bleeding slightly, "What did I get myself into this time?" He whispered to himself quietly.

"Oh you do not want to know, Professor," Dark Shadow told him, emerging from the corner where he'd stood unnoticed, watching the younger man. Charlie's head shot up, his eyes locking on his captor.

His heart raced in his chest as anxiety overran him, a fear nothing like he'd ever felt before the kidnapping. Now it felt as if the feeling never went away. Dark Shadow advanced on him and Charlie struggled to get away, but the chains restricted his movement. A hand gripped his hair and pulled him to a standing position, but the way his feet were fastened together didn't let him support himself at all. He was essentially hanging by his hair. "Stop, please!" He begged as tears began to escape his eyes.

The hand let go suddenly and Charlie felt himself crash to the ground. He threw his hands out to break his fall and landed squarely on his stomach, letting out a loud puff of air. A solid kick to his side flipped him onto his back and Dark Shadow pressed his boot into his chest, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He asked cruelly, adding more pressure.

Charlie's hands gripped the man's ankle, trying to lift the weight that was beginning to limit his breathing, "Stop, please..." he rasped, trying to draw in a deep breath. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get the foot off of him. Dark Shadow stepped down harder and Charlie didn't know how much more he could take. What had he done? He remembered Dry Ice mentioning something about punishing him if he 'misbehaved', but he hadn't done anything that he was aware of.

"What's wrong Eppes?" He continued to taunt him ruthlessly, but the door burst open to reveal Dry Ice, only recognizable by the unique mask he wore, a black plastic mask with bloody red streaks moving up and down it.

"Shadow!" He yelled at his crony angrily, clutching the phone in his hand, "What are you doing in here? I thought I told you to take care of the witness!"

"Boss?" He lifted his boot automatically and faced the other man. "Yeah, I'll get the girl. I just wanted to have some fun first."

"This isn't about fun. This is about money and about not getting caught! Do you understand me! Or do you want to end up like Joker, on a slab in the morgue?" Dry Ice screamed at him angrily, his voice piercing to Charlie's ears.

"Uh, I gotta go," Charlie piped up, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. Dark Shadow grabbed his hair and all but dragged him to the bathroom. He called someone's name and a man appeared producing a set of keys.

Only moments later, Charlie exited the bathroom and could only comply as they held him down and bound his legs once again. It was too soon that he found himself in the small cold room.

Charlie squirmed on the floor, trying desperately to push himself away from the two men who'd resumed their conversation, but Dark Shadow gave him a stern glare, and he stopped moving completely. "I'll take care of the girl," Dark Shadow told his boss firmly.

"You'd better. She heard everything and she must have recognized Joker. Take care of Blaze too, that agent probably knows his name by now – that makes him a liability," Dry Ice commanded in a cold voice, devoid of any emotion.

"What's the girl's name again?" Dark Shadow asked. He'd never really paid attention earlier when Dry Ice had first given him his orders.

"Amita something-or-other. She's with the agent anyway. Just get to her any way you can," he answered quickly. Charlie automatically pushed himself into a sitting position.

"No! Leave her alone! Don't you even go near her or I swear I'll…" Charlie began angrily, forgetting his situation. All he could think about was that his friend was in serious danger.

"And what the hell do you think you'll do, huh Professor?" Dry Ice sneered back maliciously and took a step towards the mathematician. Charlie blanched and sat stock-still. He knew he'd just gotten himself into even deeper trouble. Dry Ice only smiled at his fear and continued his advance. When he stood directly in front of Charlie, towering over him, he spoke again. "I think you need to be punished. Maybe then you'll think twice about talking back to me."

"I think so too," Dark Shadow agreed with a twisted grin. "Boss, why don't I make a little audio tape of what I do to the Professor's little friend? He seems so protective of her. You like her a little more than a friend, Prof?"

Charlie didn't answer, but tears came to his eyes. There was nothing he could do to stop Dark Shadow from doing whatever he planned to do and it would be all his fault if the man succeeded.

"Do that. I knew there was more than one reason I made you my right-hand man," Dry Ice laughed before continuing. "But the Professor will still be punished my way as well. Get me the keys, and get Mask and Gargoyle down here too, then our little lesson will begin."

Dark Shadow nodded and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he went to gather his comrades.

"Please, just leave Amita alone," Charlie spoke up quietly and Dry Ice sat on his haunches so he was eye to eye with his captive. A wide smile was spreading over his face.

"I would Professor, but you see – she heard Joker die and nearly helped him live. She's a witness, and we never leave witnesses that can identify us," he told Charlie quietly in a matter-of-fact voice.

"But what if she only heard you? What if she didn't see anything?" Charlie asked. He wanted to find some way – _any_ way – to save her.

"Can't take that chance," Dry Ice whispered cruelly in his ear as the door opened once again and three other men came into the room, one of them holding a set of keys. Mask threw them to Dry Ice who caught them easily. "Ah ha. Right on time. And Professor, this time _you_ will be the one learning the lesson."

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"Dad, we're at the bank now," Don spoke into his cell phone as they waited in line for Amita's turn.

"Are you close Donnie? I've got almost enough money, from the business with me and Stan and from the money Charlie gave me for the house and a loan, but I think I may need to sell the car as well," Alan informed them of how they were doing on the ransom part of the kidnapping.

"We had a lead, but ten minutes ago I got a call from Megan, and our lead is dead," he told his father sadly, referring to the earlier murder of the doctor.

"Donnie, please find him. I want my boy back," Alan's voice broke over the phone. "I know if anyone can get him back, it's you."

"I'll get him back Dad, I promise," Don answered just as they reached the teller. "Sorry Dad, I gotta go. Bye."

"I love you Donnie," Alan told him, knowing he didn't tell his sons that often enough.

"I love you too," Don hung up his phone, flipping it closed.

"How much money would you like to take out, Miss?" the clerk at the bank asked Amita politely.

"Uh… twenty thousand," Amita told him. It was the money she'd been saving so she could buy a house and move out of her apartment.

"Isn't that a bit much?" the clerk asked suspiciously, eyeing Don who stood behind her. He spotted Don's gun and his eyes widened.

Don rolled his eyes and quickly flashed his badge. "Please hurry, this is important."

"Large bills or small?" He asked Amita pointedly and she looked to Don for advice.

"Large," he answered for her and explained, "Less time to mark and harder for them to spend."

This really got the clerk's attention. His eyes narrowed. He'd been aware that he might be lucky earlier, but now he knew for sure. He carefully clicked on the wire and gave Amita her money.

As she turned to leave, following her friend's brother, the clerk jumped over the counter and grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her backwards. It was his favorite way of causing pain.

Amita screamed and Don's hands flew to his holster, but a gun was already at her head. "Agent Eppes, I suggest you let me leave or I shall open fire on these good people," he spoke calmly as he dragged Amita back with him towards the rear exit. "Okay! Everyone on the floor!"

The manager stood, shocked at his employee's actions, but got to the ground before the clerk decided to fire his gun. The rest of the costumers and banks employees rushed to the ground, staying as still as possible to avoid catching the man's attention.

"My name is Dark Shadow," he announced coldly. "And as long as I leave here safely, none of you will come to any harm!" He knew that his cover was blown and Dry Ice would have him eliminated, as he'd done to Blaze earlier, but as long as he did his part he was happy.

Don stood where he was, searching for an exposed area he could shoot at without ultimately killing Amita, but she was being used as a human shield. He could do absolutely nothing as Dark Shadow dragged her out the back door.

He rushed to the door, hoping he could get to her in time, but heard the sound of tires screeching and saw the back of a blue van as it drove away. The license plate however was frozen into his mind. 'AEM 856' – Canadian plates.

His cell phone was out in a flash. "David?"

"Yeah? Don what is it? Do you have him?" His agent's voice asked urgently.

"No, and Amita's gone too." He ran a hand through his hair, wondering how the hell he'd let this happen.

"They took her? Damn... where are you?" He questioned, needing as much information as possible.

"The bank, one of the clerks was in on it. The plates of the van he used are AEM 856. They're Canadian," Don answered quickly and took a deep breath.

"Canadian, eh?" David tried to lighten the mood a little, but knew that it wouldn't work, "Okay... I'll meet you there." He hung up, knowing Don did not want to mess with idle goodbyes.

Don flipped his phone shut. Looking around the alleyway behind the bank, he let out a long sigh.

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One man held down each of his arms, leaving him completely helpless to whatever was planned for him. The chains had been removed from his legs and he had no idea what was coming next.

It had been three hours since the lesson had begun. They'd unlocked the chains first and hoisted him to his feet, only to be knocked down again by a solid punch to his stomach. It had been three hours of that. He tried to get away numerous times, but had been beaten into submission each time. Eventually he'd given up, just taking all they gave out, though his yells of pain never ceased.

The door creaked open and Amita stumbled through the door just as Dry Ice picked up an inch thick metal pole and completely defeated the need for the chains. He beat Charlie's legs with it until audible cracks were heard.

"Charlie!" He barely registered her voice, but he peered at her through his tears.

"No, Amita..." he whispered and he felt the hands holding him down leave his arms and Amita rushed to him. She kneeled down beside him and touched a hand tenderly to his cheek.

"Charlie, are you okay?" She asked him in a whisper.

"Not really, you?" He forced out as a bolt of pain ran up and down his leg.

"Head's a little sore, but I think the worst is yet to come," she told him and looked at Dark Shadow who was speaking to his boss. Both Amita and Charlie went silent as they listened in on the conversation.

"I've been compromised. I brought the girl here though. Maybe you can make the Professor watch whatever you do to her. I understand I must be eliminated and would rather do it myself." Dark Shadow hung his head, understanding he'd made a crucial error and needing to die for the operation to continue running.

"Give it up, Dark Shadow. This was our last one anyway. You're an important part of the team. We're moving on to a new city and you can take on a new name. Everything will be fine, son," Dry Ice told the younger man with a grin.

"Thanks Da-Boss," Dark Shadow breathed a sigh of relief and pointed to the pair on the floor. "And them?"

"She can't very well say anything if she's here, can she? We need to find out what she's told the FBI, too. Give them an hour, then we'll question her," he turned to Amita. "You tell us what we need to know when we ask, and it will go much easier on both of you."

She clasped Charlie's hand tightly and stared back, fear glistening in her eyes. She had no idea what to do. It seemed as though Dry Ice and Dark Shadow were father and son, and cruelty was in their blood.

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A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! They make me ever so happy, lol, but seriously...review!


	5. Power Struggle

A/N: Considering how long it usually takes to update, this is a quick one, lol. This idea just hit me on geography class so I ran with it. It flowed right out of me, lol. I hope you enjoy chapter five...you'd better, I stayed up late to write it, lol :P. OH and there is a scene that has some mention of an attempted sexual assault, but there is no specifics in it and I tried very hard to keep it fitting with a teen rating. I think I did okay with it, but if you think I should up the rating after you read it, I will.

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Chapter Five: _Power Struggle_

The doors creaking caught Amita's attention and she whipped her head around, an hour must have been up, "I'll take care of it Charlie," she whispered to him breathily, understanding he'd been through enough that day.

"No, Amita, they have no mercy, no compassion, if you tell them what they want to know, you're as good as dead," he told her quietly, his eyes darted to the approaching man as he finished.

"Don't worry," she replied in a soft voice and kissed his now stubble covered cheek.

Rising off the floor Amita faced Dark Shadow as he asked, "What did you tell the FBI?" She remained silent and stood still in front of him. He advanced on her and grabbed her arms, shoving his face only an quarter of an inch away from hers and growled, "What did you tell them!" She held her ground as best she could, trying to keep her face impassive, but it was a losing battle, "Damn it B, tell me what you told them!" Dark Shadow demanded as he slammed her back against the wall.

"You'll just kill me after anyway!" She retorted, knowing that Charlie's earlier words were true and she couldn't let them get any farther ahead of the FBI.

"Listen to me closely," Dark Shadow's eyes narrowed dangerously as he leaned in to whisper into Amita's ear, "The Professor doesn't have to die, but that doesn't mean I can't arrange it."

A tear dripped down her cheek as he wrapped a hand around her throat and began to squeeze the life out of her, "The Prof is next Amita... and it'll be all your fault."

"Okay...okay," she sobbed in a raspy voice and locked eyes with Charlie as she continued, "I-I never really saw anything, I just heard a gunshot and tried to help that guy...Drake Meggers." Upon Amita's confession, he let her drop to the ground, and she lay in a heap, curled up in the fetal position as she tried to regain her breath.

"Amita...you okay?" Charlie found his voice, after remaining silent in terror when Dark Shadow was choking her, he thought the man was going to kill her.

She sniffled quietly and whispered in a barely audible voice, "Yeah."

Dark Shadow grabbed her by the wrist before she could say anything else and hefted her off the floor, "You're a pretty girl Amita, why don't we have some fun, just say the word _Sweetheart_," his chilling voice echoed throughout the room, making both captives shudder.

"No, get off me!" She pushed away from him, struggling to rip her wrist from his grip, but it was too strong.

"Aw C'mon, you know you can't say no to me," He pulled her against his chest by her wrist and wrapped his other arm around her back, forcing her into a kiss.

"Get off her! Don't you dare or you'll wish you've never been born!" Charlie screamed at him, he couldn't take watching the man try to defile Amita. With all the strength he had he used his arms to push himself towards where Dark Shadow was holding her, dragging his legs behind him. He gritted his teeth to bear the pain and Dark Shadow watched with amusement.

"Ooooh I'm scared now, I'm shaking in my booties," he laughed and pulled Amita even closer to him. She wrinkled her face in digust as she tried to pull away. Dark Shadow narrowed his eyes cruelly at her, ignoring Charlie's movements, "Something wrong Sweetheart?" He asked in a venomous tone.

"Your breath is rank!" She screamed at him and he threw her against the wall. Advancing on her again he kissed her roughly and pinned her wrists over her head with one hand, and flexed the other in front of her face, taunting her. Dark Shadow stroked her cheek and slowly began to lower it, watching the fear in Amita's eyes mount, relishing the power he had over her.

Before he could follow through, two hands gripped his ankles and dragged him out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground and on top of Charlie's torso, "I said, get off her!" He rasped loudly from under the weight.

"You also just got yourself into a whole lot of trouble Professor," Dark Shadow pushed himself of Charlie and looked into his eyes and he could see the angry fire burning inside them.

Amita sank to the floor breathing heavily and prayed that everything would be alright, but something told her it would be awhile before it would be. The door creeped open once again and DryIce looked at Dark Shadow sadly.

"They got your name by now Dark Shadow, they'll be at the house soon. You're the boss now kiddo, I'll turn myself in and throw them off," he answered and shut the door as he left.

Dark Shadow stared after his boss for a moment and then called Gargoyle and Mask down to the room. The door opened, and it seemed obvious it hadn't been oiled in a long time, and the two men came in, "Alright guys, Dry Ice passed me the torch. Gargoyle, take the girl and take care of her, she's beginning to bore me. Mask, go get the video camera ready, the Professor needs to give his family another message."

Gargoyle nodded and walked calmly over to where Amita sat on the floor, not questioning Dark Shadow's authority at all, but Mask had other plans.

"The only reason I agreed to take part in this is because I was told no one would die, but already Joker, and Blaze are dead and you're planning this girl's murder. I've had enough, leave her alone," he stood in Gargoyles way, but his eyes were defiantly glued to Dark Shadow's face.

"Oh don't grow a concience on us now," Dark Shadow sneered and pushed Mask out of Gargoyles way, "If she goes free, we're all going to jail for a really long time."

Mask let himself be pushed out of the way, but stormed out of the room angrily to get the video camera. "No one was supposed to die," he muttered as he climbed the staircase.

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"Okay, the clerk's name is Micheal Powers, 27, no priors," David told Don as he came up beside him, surveying the scene. Agents were everywhere question the customers and staff.

"Well, if he ever committed a crime before now, we just never cought him," Don replied quietly as he pondered the information, "family?"

"As far as we know, just his father, his sister was killed last year in an automobile accident, mother dead from complications during the sister's birth," David made sure he had all the information he would need ready, he would not be caught napping on this case.

"Ok, let's pay Dear Old Dad a visit and see if he's seen his son in the past little while, address?" Don asked as he made his way to the car, he'd give his statement later, when they had Charlie and Amita safe.

"385 Geralton Road, here I'll drive," his friend and agent offered and quietly took Don's keys from him. Don didn't protest, he was too worried to drive anyways. He was glad that David was working so hard on this case, he knew that he could trust the younger man with his life... and Charlie's and Amita's.

David drove in silence, keeping his eyes glued firmly to the road as they made their way to the residence. A large house came into view with gates surrounding the property, "These guys are living quite well," Don commented bitterly, knowing that the reason was the poor men's lives they'd disrupted.

Both of them got out of the car and noticed that no one seemed to be home, "We have no probable cause to go in, think we should wait?" David asked carefully as his eyes scanned the front yard.

"We'll get someone to watch the place if no one comes home in the next hour," Don answered as he climbed back into the car and turned up the air conditioning. The hot summer air was getting to him, and the fact his little brother was still in the clutches of a group of brutal men.

They did not have long to wait, about thirty minutes later a navy Mercedes pulled into the driveway and an aging man stepped out of the vehicle. He looked to be in his mid-sixties, but very muscilar for his age, "May I help you two?" He questioned and Don recognized the green eyes right away.

"You," he spat angrily at the man that had orchestrated his brother's kidnapping.

The man's lips turned into a twisted grin, "Yes me, who did you think it was Agent Eppes? Santa Claus? And I might as well get this over with. I am the one the Professor knows only as Dry Ice. I planned his abduction and take responsibily for it."

"George Powers, you are under arrest for the kidnappings of Harold Parsons, Kirk Gilroy, Derrek Filder, Charles Eppes and Amita Ramanjuan," David began and continued to read the man his Miranda rights. He kept his tone calm, but inside he was fuming at the man's cold stature. He didn't care that he was ruining numerous lives, he just laughed at other people's pain. George Powers was a sick sadist and it was apparent that his son most likely was too.

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"You can make this alot easier for yourself," Megan rounded the interrogation room to face George, her hands planted on the table's metal surface, "Just tell us where your son is holding them."

"What do I get if I tell you what I know?" George asked in an obnoxious voice.

"A deal, a reduced sentence. Mr. Powers, you're looking at six counts of kidnapping. That's six consectutive sentences of fifteen to twenty years," Megan told him, trying to shake him with the prospect of 90-120 years of jail time.

"A warehouse on the cross section of Hilth Drive and Baradon Road," he replied easily, "What's my deal?"

"We have to make sure your information is accurate first," she left the room, and went to speak with Don, who'd been watching, "That was too easy."

"I know, put Agent Wilson on it just in case. We need to go through everything George and Michael Powers bought, it may lead us to Charlie and Amita," Don spoke to her briskly and picked up some the numerous folders that had been taken from the house, "but I think it may take awhile."

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A/N: Whoo hoo for me, this update was somewhat quick wasn't it? It might be a smidge short though, oh well, just be thankful you didn't have to wait a month this time! REVIEW PLEASE!


	6. Impatience Can Kill

A/N: Hey all. Here's chapter six, I hope you enjoy it. I know it isn't August yet, but my older brother is gone and won't be back until tomorrow so I'm using his computer, although this will have to be a short chap. My friends threw me an awesome going away party the other day and I had major second thoughts about moving, but I'm definitely going. Anyway here's the chapter you wanted and I hope you enjoy it!

A quick thanks to Emerald124 for giving me a couple ideas for this story! And thanks to everyone else who reviewed!

Nicole

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A Million Chapter Six: Impatience Can Kill

_Ring ring ring_... The sharp sound attacked Don's eardrums as he snatched the cell phone and pressed it to his ear. "Eppes."

"Agent Eppes?" A slightly raspy voice asked quietly. It seemed as though part of the voice was strangely muffled as well.

"The one and only," Don answered cautiously, aware that it could be one of his brother's kidnappers.

"The girl – Gargoyle's going to kill her. You have to get to her first," the voice told him urgently and the agent could hear sounds in the background as if the man was rummaging through an untidy bag.

"Who is this?" His voice was on edge as he waved an arm at Megan to signal her over.

"Names are unimportant, the girl is. No one was supposed to die and too many deaths are on my conscience already. I think he's taking her to an abandoned house on Huntington Street. It's 456 I think. Please hurry." Don could tell the man was being honest – even though the voice was disguised, the tone wasn't. The man seemed close to tears and trying to make things right.

"What about Charlie?" He had to ask. Maybe the man's guilt would save his brother, too.

"They'll kill my baby. I'm pushing it as it is." A dial tone met his ears.

"Don? Who was it?" Megan questioned, her voice filled with worry.

"One of the kidnappers – we're going to Huntington Street," Don told her briskly without further explanation. Turning to David and Colby he said, "Stay here. Go through these documents and check with my dad on how he's doing with the money."

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Bound in the dark trunk of Gargoyle's car, Amita contemplated her situation. She was most likely going to die, but still she clung to the tiniest hope that somehow she would survive and that Charlie would, too.

As the vehicle drove on the road seemed to get rougher and rougher – numerous times she'd ended up banging her head and almost knocking herself out. The car slowed down and she prayed that it wasn't stopping. The ride wasn't all that much fun, but the sooner the vehicle stopped, the sooner Gargoyle would finish her off. The car continued to slow and then suddenly sped up again. They'd probably just hit a turn. She wanted to cry in relief. Every time the car slowed down, Amita would tremble in fear.

Soon the car slowed down again and then came to a complete stop. Fear stole her breath away as she heard the car door open then close and footsteps as Gargoyle rounded the car. Shouts suddenly invaded her senses, familiar ones. She heard a muffled, "Hand over your weapon!" A quick succession of gunshots followed soon after from an angry Gargoyle.

Quick, shallow breaths were her only source of air in the stuffy trunk. Gargoyle had just killed somebody, probably an officer or even an agent by the sounds of it. The footsteps towards her resumed and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly at the trunk lid was ripped open.

Bracing herself for the gunshot, she stiffened and tears shamelessly fell down her face. "Amita, it's okay now – we've got you." She opened her eyes, unable to believe it. Don quickly cut through the ropes and helped her out of the trunk, only to have her fall against him.

"Don? Is-is...do you have Charlie?" she asked as Don steadied her and led her over to where an ambulance was waiting.

"Not yet, but we will. Don't worry Amita." Her eyes found Gargoyle's body and she forced herself not to throw up. She found herself clinging to her friend's brother tightly, afraid to let go of the safety Don provided, but what she wanted the most was to be able to be with Charlie. No matter how much protection Don seemed to be able to offer, she needed more than that – she needed Charlie.

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"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked in a small voice as Dark Shadow helped Mask set up the camera.

"What's have we been doing the past two days?" Dark Shadow asked, giving him an answer he didn't really want to hear.

Charlie shuddered involuntarily before asking in the same weak voice, "How do you expect me to last nine more days of this?"

"I don't," was the short answer and Dark Shadow looked at him venomously. "Better hope Daddy pays the ransom before we 'accidentally' beat you to death."

Charlie swallowed thickly and prepared himself for whatever the man was planning. He wished they'd get it over with. It was too much – the constant pain they were inflicting on him. And then there was Amita. She was gone, Gargoyle had killed her for sure by now and there was nothing he could do about it. If only he had protected her better.

The two men left the camera and Mask hauled him into a sitting position as his boss fitted a set of brass knuckles over his hand. Mask knelt behind Charlie in such a way that the mathematician couldn't fall backward and Dark Shadow leaned over his victim for a moment before announcing, "Showtime!"

Dark Shadow faced the camera, "Mr. Eppes, I'm afraid I'm not as patient as my father and I want my money very soon. Oh and your son seems to have some very bad manners. I thought I'd teach him some and give you the privilege of watching."

Dark Shadow released a savage punch into Charlie's face and watched the blood spill from his nose. Changing targets, he aimed for the mathematician's torso.

Charlie couldn't dodge the barrage of punches being thrown his way. The pain was so forceful he didn't know how much longer he could stay conscious. He was fighting a losing battle and he struggled to defend himself from the onslaught. His breath was forced from his lungs over and over again until black spots invaded his vision. Mercifully, the beating finally ended. The last words his conscious mind heard was, "You have until he bleeds to death to pay me," and then a blast that shattered the air... and his shoulder.

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Well I surprised even myself with that chapter, I'm too cruel to poor Charlie. Anyway I'm starting a new fanfic that title will be something close to "Lies and Black Eyes" or "Bruise and Lies" I'm not exactly sure yet. Anyway it's more Charlie angst, but this time it's a bit different from what I usually do.

Here's its summary: Charlie finds himself in a position he never dreamed he'd ever be in, an abusive relationship. Two things stop him from getting out, his love for his abuser and knowing that the only way out, is to admit to the world he's being beaten by a girl. A world that includes his older brother.

Please check it out when I post it, I have a major twist in mind for the ending.

Love  
Q of C


	7. No One Was Supposed To Die

A/N: Well I'm moved to B.C. but right now I'm visiting family. My Auntie's gone to the dentist and my cousin's busy at the moment so I decided to end your wait and write this for you. I hope you like it. Sorry for the wait, but anyway here you go!

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Chapter Seven: _No One Was Supposed To Die_

Alan paced around his living room waiting for any information on his son. He'd finally gotten the money he'd needed and it lay in a duffel bag on the hardwood floor. It had been too long since the phone call from Don and hadn't heard from his elder son since. He remembered the phone call from David only an hour or two after from hearing from Don.

_"Mr. Eppes?" The African American agent asked quietly through the phone._

_"David? What's going on? Donnie didn't get hurt did he?" He questioned, immediately worried for his son. He couldn't stand losing even one of them, let alone both._

_"No, but 'they' got Amita, Don's trying to track her and Charlie down now. He hasn't stopped to eat or rest, I'm afraid he might work himself to the ground. I'm not trying to worry you Alan, but maybe you can talk him into at least eating something," David explained quickly and then waited for Alan's reply._

_With a long sigh the older man ran his hand through his hair and spoke, "I'll try, but Don's stubborn, just like his mother. I got the money together though it wasn't easy."_

_"That's good, these guys have always given the victim back after the ransom is paid," David told him, "If they contact you for a drop-off call us immediately, no matter what. 'Kay?"_

_"Okay David. Send Don my way if you see him too. Bye," Alan said tiredly._

_"Bye," and then there was dial tone._

The doorbell interrupted Alan's memory and he answered it to find a man holding a small rectangular package. A package that was getting to look all too familiar, a video tape, "Delivery for an Alan Eppes?"

"That's me," he answered quietly and signed for it. Carrying it inside he carefully opened it and slipped the tape into the VCR. He watched in silent horror as Charlie was beaten and shot, tears drifting unnoticed down his aged cheeks. His little boy was so close to death, he looked so pale on the video, so still. He barely heard the kidnappers' demands for the drop off, he actually had to rewind and play the ending again just to hear the man's words.

"Eleven tonight, 163 Herald Avenue, bring the money and I'll give you your son. Don't tell anyone, not Don, not the FBI, come alone or you'll never find the professor. He'll just die a slow and painful death... See you at eleven," the man told him before aiming a kick at Charlie's torso and then the tape went black.

"Oh god," he whispered to himself sadly before he checked his watch and saw it was ten-thirty at night. It a flurry of activity he threw on his jacket, grabbed the duffel bag and ran to his car. He knew he must've been driving twenty miles an hour over the speed limit but he didn't care. His boy was in pain, and every second he wasted was another moment in which Charlie could die.

It seemed as if hours passed until he reached his destination - an abandoned house with a dark sedan in the driveway. He paused before parking and jumping out, trying desperately to pull himself together. With a deep breath, he faced the sedan and watched as three men got out. One was holding a monster of a handgun, and another was completely supporting the third.

"Ah Mr. Eppes, nice of you to join us," the man with the gun spoke airily and grinned underneath his ski mask, "Do you have my money?"

Alan held up the duffel bag silently and asked," What about Charlie? Is he okay?"

The man pointed to his partner and the limp man and answered, "'Okay' wouldn't really describe him at the moment, but 'alive' - yes. Slide the money over and we'll leave you and you son alone and that's a promise."

Swallowing the lump in his throat he slid the duffel bag towards the man and watched as he dug through it and made sure it was real and all there. Without another word, he signaled to the other man who took a step forward and the third man's feet dragged behind.

"Oh god, Charlie!" Alan cried out as he ran up to the men and took his son in his arms. Charlie moaned and Alan carefully sat down and let his son rest on him, unable to hold up his dead weight for long.

"Well it was nice doing business with you," the man told him and pointed the gun at the two men, "Now its time to say goodbye, but look at it this way, at least you'll die together.

"You bastard, you said you'd leave us alone," Alan cursed through his clenched teeth.

"And I will... I'll leave your bodies alone once you're dead," he smiled as he pulled the trigger.

"No!" Alan heard the voice through tightly closed eyes and a loud bang. Opening his eyes a peek, he saw the man's partner holding the gun and standing over the dead body.

"Why?" He asked in a shocked voice - he'd been expecting to die.

"No one was supposed to die," he said quietly and tossed Alan a cell phone before jumping into the sedan and driving away.

Still holding his near-dead son, Alan quickly dialed 911. After hanging up the only thing he could think of doing was rocking Charlie in his arms and crying.

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"Don, I swear I'm fine. Look… I don't need a doctor. Please. You look like you need a doctor more than I do. When was the last time you ate?" Amita asked as she lay in the hospital bed. The doctors had even told her that apart from a few bruises she was fine.

"This isn't about me, Amita," he told her sternly and then sighed. "You're right, I should eat something. I'll be back in a little bit."

"No you don't!" Amita told him firmly. "You're going to eat, _then_ you're going to take a nap and _after that_ you're going to find Charlie."

"Yes Ma'am," Don tried for a joke and got a small wisp of a smile that lasted only a second, but was a smile nonetheless. He got up and left quietly. Just as he got to the parking lot he saw an ambulance, sirens blazing rush in.

He didn't see who was on the stretcher - just the older man who got out after. It was his father and he was covered head to toe with blood.

"DAD!" He practically yelled as he ran up to his Alan and enclosed him in a bear hug. "Was that Charlie? Did you find him, or pay the ransom? Dad… what happened?" He'd just noticed the tears that stained his father's face.

"That was Charlie, Donnie, but he's in bad shape, real bad shape. He looked so pale Donnie. My baby boy - he looked dead!" Alan cried and Don could not imagine what his father was going through. Charlie was his brother and he loved him, but he knew it couldn't compare to nearly losing a child.

"Dad, you need to get cleaned up, you're covered in blood... none of it's yours is it? Are you okay?" He asked. Nothing would've shocked him at this point.

"No... Donnie, I can't leave Charlie," Alan told him and tried to go into the hospital.

"Dad… listen: they won't let you see him yet anyway. It'll only take a short while, we both need to eat and shower. Charlie wouldn't want us stay at the hospital like this." Don pleaded with his dad until he finally relented.

"Take me home then. But only an hour Donnie - we're only going to be gone for an hour," Alan said. He felt as if he was letting Charlie down by not being there, but he also knew his older son was right.

"Only an hour Dad," Don assured him and wondered what crime he committed in a past life to deserve what had happened to his family in the last couple days.

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A/N: Well there's chapter seven, it may have been a little short, but I'm not actually at home right now and it would be rude to stay on my Aunt's computer all day. You guys understand right? Well anyways please review and I don't mind criticism as long as it's constructive. Flames will be ignored.


	8. It's Over Charlie, I Promise

A/N: Okay this is very short, really it's just to end the story. I hope it does so to your liking, this story has been such a struggle for me to get done, so here is the last chapter. I think I've been writing this story for over nine months... so it's about time.

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It was only 45 minutes until Don and Alan got back to the hospital and began their long wait. Amita had been released shortly before and Alan filled them in on what happened.

"You what! Dad! Why didn't you call me! You should have told me, told somebody!" Don practically yelled at him, astounded.

"Don't raise your voice to me, Donald Eppes," Alan told his eldest son sternly. "I'm still your father... no matter how old you are. I did what I had to to get Charlie back. They told me not to tell anybody so I didn't,"

It was then that they noticed a doctor trying to get their attention and Don asked quickly, "How's Charlie?"

"I'm Dr. Hewitt," the man said instead. "Charlie needs several blood transfusions and reconstructive surgery for his legs and shoulder. If everything goes well he should regain complete function in his legs and most of that in his arm as well." He paused and then added, "He's receiving the transfusion now if you and your father would like to see him for five minutes."

"Yes, thank you," Alan answered for both of them.

"Follow me then," Dr. Hewitt instructed as he led the two men to Charlie's room. Both Don and Alan waved at Amita and Don promised to mention that she was alright.

Charlie wasn't quite as pale as when he'd arrived, but much worse than when Don had last seen him, "Oh God, Buddy... are you okay?"

Charlie lifted his drooping eyelids a tiny bit and answered quietly, "No...Amita's...dead." He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to let his family see the tears that had welled up in his eyes. He couldn't let himself cry. He hadn't cried since his mother died (apart from the one night in captivity) and even then he still hadn't let anybody see him. Truth be told, when his mother was sick he wasn't just working on P vs. NP. He also spent a lot of time in the garage simply crying and praying that everything would be okay.

Alan moved to Charlie's bedside and wiped away the stray tears for him, something he hadn't done since his son was a child. "Charlie – Amita's fine. They just won't let her see you because she isn't family."

"Really?" He asked in a quiet, incredulous voice.

"Really, really," he reassured him softly and looked to Don. His eldest son stood back and watched his brother and father interact. Charlie was still, in some ways, much like a child... always needing to be reassured about everything.

"Charlie?" Don asked quietly as he walked to the other side of the hospital bed.

"Uh huh?" he questioned, eyes still shut, but this time it looked as if he was only resting them.

"I want you to know that I'm glad you're my brother and I love you no matter what, okay?" he told him and gave his hand a quick squeeze. He knew that Charlie needed to hear these things. His little brother didn't understand that many of the things Don did or said to him was because he cared about him.

"Thanks Don... I love ya too..." he trailed off and the two eldest Eppes noticed the youngest had drifted off to sleep.

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6 Months Later

"Did you get him?" Charlie asked the question he asked everyday since his rescue.

"Not yet, but we will," Don gave him the same answer as always and Charlie turned back to his blackboard to finish an equation off before supper. It was more of a ritual than anything else. Charlie didn't really think they were going to catch the last kidnapper who was still free, but from what Charlie had heard during his captivity and what his father and brother had told him, Mask was really an okay guy mixed up in some bad things. Although for all he knew it could be Stockholm's Syndrome talking.

"The trial starts tomorrow right?" Charlie asked with a thick swallow. "Because George Powers changed his story."

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. We have proof he and his son were involved," Don reassured him, "It'll be a slam dunk case."

"Then why is he so determined to have a trial?" he wondered out loud and shuddered at the thought of facing Dry Ice once again.

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The Next Day

"Case 564754, Courtroom B. The state versus George Powers. All Rise." The bailiff said loudly as the trial began.

The D.A. called Charlie to the stand first and he was sworn in. It was then that he started his testimony, but he noticed that George was smiling sinisterly at him and he froze as the D.A. asked him a question.

"Dr. Eppes? I asked you what happened the day of your kidnapping," he repeated softly, noting the fear in the young man's eyes.

"I-I was working on an equation for my brother... I consult sometimes for the Bureau... when the lights went out..." He told the story from beginning to end what happened and hoped that the jury saw George for the cunning, sadistic man he was.

"Dr. Eppes... do you see one of the men who kidnapped you here today in this courtroom?" The D.A. asked in a loud voice.

"Yes," he spoke in barely more than a whisper and waited for the next inevitable question.

"Can you point him out to the jury?" he asked. Charlie hesitated as the fear immobilized him, but somehow he lifted one of his fingers and pointed directing at George. As if in slow motion, a gun seemed to materialize in Powers' hand and he shot straight at Charlie.

"THIS IS FOR MY SON YOU BASTARD!" he screamed as he pulled the trigger repeatedly.

Wood splintered around him as Charlie threw himself to the floor and waited for the gunfire to cease. There was one last blast and then complete silence before he heard his father yelling, "Charlie!"

Several hands helped him to his feet and his father grabbed him in a fierce hug, "It's over now, Charlie – I promise."

FINIS

Well I hoped you liked it!


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